Fine. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need them. Not even Pete.
She kept walking. Right out of the arena grounds, all the way to where she’d parked. She just kept going.
Would they notice she was gone? Would they even care?
The question made her cringe and here, in the safety of her car, she felt the first tears begin to fall. Because as bad as that question was, it wasn’t the question.
No, that was this—would Pete care?
Or would he be glad because she’d ceded the field to him? She’d admitted that she couldn’t handle the All-Stars or her family. She was done.
After all this time, he’d finally gotten what he wanted.
He’d gotten rid of the Princess of the Rodeo.
Thirteen
Pete sat on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him as he tried to take stock.
He couldn’t see out of his left eye, it was that swollen. His nose was broken for sure. Two of his teeth were loose but his jaw still moved like it was supposed to. Unlike his right hand—probably a broken bone or three there. And his ribs—damn, breathing hurt. Whoever’d caught him in the ribs had a hell of a punch. Or had he been kicked? Lord. Pete had been stepped on by bulls that hadn’t hurt him this much.
A stillness settled over the dressing room, quiet except for the sounds of wet breathing. Pete coughed, tasted blood. He rolled his head to the side, trying to get his good eye to focus. Flash had come to rest against the door. His face looked like it’d been through a meat grinder. Oliver was next to the tipped clothing rack that held Chloe’s dress for the evening, holding his wrist and moaning softly, a black eye blooming on his face. Milt was in the only chair still standing, leaning his head against his hands. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t look as bad as his sons. As much as Pete hated the old man, he hoped he hadn’t hurt him too much.
And Chloe...
Wait. “Where’s Chloe?”
“What?” Milt said, lifting his head.
“Chloe. Your daughter.” Panic began to flare in his chest. Pete pushed himself up but had to sit back down when his head spun dangerously. “Where is she?”
“Gone,” Flash said. He sounded funny and he wasn’t moving his mouth—yeah, Pete had broken his jaw.
That he didn’t feel bad about. But Chloe wasn’t in here and as the adrenaline from the fight began to fade, worry replaced it. “Gone where?”
Flash shrugged and winced.
Pete rested his head on the wall, trying to think. It wasn’t easy—his whole face felt like he’d run into a brick wall with it. Repeatedly.
She’d brought them back here so they could sort through their differences in private. And Flash had run his mouth and Milt had acted affronted and Pete had attacked Oliver’s wife and then Oliver had attacked Pete and...
Chloe had left.
Had she tried to break up the fight? Of course she had—this was Chloe. But they hadn’t listened to her.
Jesus, he hadn’t listened to her. No wonder she’d walked.
“I need to get her,” he said, struggling to his feet.
“You’re not going anywhere until this is done, Wellington,” Oliver said. “And it isn’t done. Not yet.”
Pete tried to give him a dirty look, but it hurt too much. “Get out of my way, Lawrence.”
“Sit your ass down, Pete,” Milt said, like Pete was a teenager instead of a grown man who’d...
Who’d possibly ruined everything.
Chloe was gone and there was no way in hell her family could be reasoned with, not after that fight. “I’m going after her.”
Milt waved a dismissive hand. “Chloe can take care of herself and Oliver’s right—we’re not done yet.”
“I’m done with you. With all of you.” Pete tried to get to his feet again, but his boots slipped on something wet and he landed back on his ass with a dull groan. “But not with her.”
Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t done with him.
He hadn’t meant to let things get this far. He’d wanted Chloe to be on his side when he confronted Milt, Oliver and Flash. He’d wanted to even the odds. But Flash had a way of making a man lose all sense of reason and besides, Pete hadn’t thrown the first punch. He never did.
But he always threw the last one.
“I’m too old for this,” Milt said, leaning back in his chair. A nasty bruise was forming along his jaw. “This is exactly why I kicked you off the circuit.”
Pete gaped at the older man. “What?”
Because he’d been a hothead back then, but he hadn’t brawled like this. The room was trashed—clothing scattered, furniture tipped, the mirror over the dressing table broken. Someone was going to have a lot of bad luck. Pete hoped it wasn’t him. “I didn’t fight like this and you know it.”
“Not that,” Milt scoffed and then grimaced. “Didn’t like how you and Chloe looked at each other. Even back then, I could see it.”
“See what?” This didn’t make any sense. Pete hadn’t been anything but a jerk to her. “How did we look at each other?”
“There’s a thin line between love and hate, young man,” Milt explained, sounding reasonable—for once. “Young, good-looking buck like you? I’m not blind. She had a crush on you something fierce and it was only a matter of time before you took advantage of that.” He tried to look mean. “When you tried to buy the circuit off me and said she could keep riding as the Princess—that’s when I knew I couldn’t risk my daughter with you.” Given all the bruising, Milt still managed to put a lot of heat into his glare. “And what do you know, I was right about that, wasn’t I?”
“I’m going to be sick,” Flash moaned, although who could tell if that was because Pete had landed a few punches to the gut or because the idea of Pete and Chloe together was too much for him.
Oliver explained, “So Flash and I taught her how to fight, in case...”
In case Pete ever cornered her. So that was why she could throw a punch. Because of him. Anger burned through him all over again. These men saw nothing but the worst in him. “I never took advantage of her.” At least, not in a sexual sense. Not then, not now.
How could he have missed that Chloe had had a crush on him? And he’d treated her like crap. He owed her a better apology. But right alongside that thought was another. “That’s why you kicked me out?”
He was having trouble putting all the pieces together right now. He managed to get one hand lifted to the back of his head. It came away wet. That explained the headache.
“Well, that and you were trying to turn the local rodeo boards against me,” Milt went on. “Then you sued me and I sued you back and—”
“That I remember,” Pete said quietly.
But...Chloe?
Where was she? He needed her.
“And it was a huge mess,” Oliver finished. “The feud was doing real damage to both Lawrence Energies’ bottom line and the All-Stars. So I mounted a semi-hostile takeover.”
“Can’t say it was a bad thing,” Milt agreed, sounding not even a little put out. “Retirement suits me just fine.”
“Wait, wait.” Pete had actually succeeded in getting the All-Stars away from Milt? Four damned years ago? And he was just now finding out? “So who owns the All-Stars? Or is it just a part of the energy company?”
“Not me,” Flash mumbled.
“Flash sold his stake to Chloe when he started riding. I insisted,” Oliver translated. “And I bought Dad out.”
“Impudent whelp,” Milt said to Oliver, sounding both angry and proud at the same time. “Outmaneuvered by my own son.”
“I see,” Pete said, even though he didn’t.
His pounding head wasn’t helping anything, but how did this make sense? If Chloe and Oliver were the only two Lawrences who owned the circuit, then Pete hadn’t
been trying to steal it from Milt. He’d been trying to steal it out from under Chloe.
“How the hell did we get here?” he asked, mostly to himself.
Flash groaned again, but Oliver was the one who answered. “Davey Wellington, may he rest in peace, was a lousy poker player and Dad had a massive midlife crisis.”
“For a good reason,” Milt said quietly, his hands clasped in what looked like prayer.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Pete said weakly. He knew that Milt had lost his wife, but he hadn’t realized how much it still affected the old man.
“Appreciate that,” Milt went on in that same quiet voice.
Oliver righted a second chair and dropped into it. “What are you doing here, Wellington? Honestly. I don’t want to have to beat you up again.”
“You can try,” Pete replied, but he hurt too much to put any menace into it. He tested out his loose teeth. They still felt attached, just wobbly. “I’m helping Chloe run the rodeo.”
This pronouncement was met with a palpable distrust, even though no one said anything.
“Well, I am,” Pete went on defensively. “Rodeo is a family but ever since my dad lost that poker game, you guys have run this as a vanity project.”
“Screw you,” Flash mumbled from the side, but he didn’t say anything else. Pete considered breaking his jaw more often.
“You,” Pete went on, pointing to Milt, “you made friends here, but you didn’t know a damned thing about running a rodeo. You,” he pointed at Oliver, “can’t be bothered with anything other than the bottom line, leaving all the work to Chloe. And for some reason, that includes managing him,” he said, pointing at Flash. “And you treat the All-Stars like it’s your personal playground, where you make up the rules. None of you care about the rodeo, not like Chloe does.”
“You mean, not like you do, you whelp,” Milt said, but he was rubbing his temples as he said it.
Pete refused to rise to that piece of bait. “Not like Chloe does. When was the last time any of you noticed everything she does? Maybe thanked her for all her hard work?”
“Man, I hate you,” Flash replied, but he sounded tired.
Pete could ignore the small barbs. He was a bigger man than that. Also, he was pretty sure his hand was broken. “I mean, yeah she’s aware that I want the All-Stars back.”
“Bastard,” Milt growled. Given that they’d all beaten the hell out of each other, the older man still managed to make it sound menacing.
“You can call me all the names you want, but you’re going to listen to me—the way you should have listened to your own daughter.”
All three men looked at him. They weren’t happy about it, but they were paying attention. Why couldn’t they give Chloe this chance?
“She knew damned well my showing up wasn’t an accident, but she couldn’t get the stock contractors to listen to her ideas. Then Flash beat the hell out of Tex McGraw. You don’t seem to realize how close he came to destroying the rodeo.” Shame hit him low and he swallowed. “How close we’ve all come to destroying the rodeo. I wouldn’t be surprised if she washed her hands of all of us after this.”
The thought left him with a growing sense of dread. She’d walked away and the hell of it was, he didn’t blame her a single bit. He’d been fighting for her, for her ideas and her right to run this rodeo as she saw fit.
Hadn’t he?
God, he hoped so.
“Because of all of that, she had no choice but to trust me because she knows how much I care about the All-Stars.” He swallowed, which tasted only faintly of blood, so that was progress. “Which I do.”
“And?” Oliver asked, pinning Pete with a look from his good eye.
“And she’s an amazing woman,” Pete admitted. “I always thought she was vain and shallow and the only thing she cared about was being the Princess of the Rodeo—but I was wrong. She cares about this rodeo and the rodeo family. She has so many amazing ideas—which you’d think you bunch of ingrates would appreciate, since it’ll directly benefit your bottom line. But instead, all she gets is pushback.”
The amazing thing was, they were still listening. Even Flash. Unless he’d blacked out? Pete wasn’t sure.
“You saw how it was. No one takes her seriously, but when I tell them the exact same thing, they snap to it. Because I’m one of them.”
Because he was a man. Was that any different?
With a growing sense of shame, he realized it wasn’t. She’d brought them here to try to get them to listen and instead, the four of them had pounded the crap out of each other.
“God,” he moaned, closing his eye. A vision of Chloe’s face, stunned and hurting, assembled itself to torture him. “We’re doing it right now. You all didn’t listen to her when you ambushed her three days ago. You didn’t listen to her here. But you’re listening to me, aren’t you?” When a Lawrence took a Wellington more seriously than they did Chloe, something was definitely wrong with the world. “She’s your equal, dammit. Treat her like it.”
“Like you do?” Flash sneered.
“Yes, like I do,” Pete shot back, trying to get to his feet. He didn’t land on his ass this time, but he wobbled. “Which she tried to tell you.”
Oliver was at his side, steadying him with his good hand. “Did you seduce my sister as part of a plan to push her out of the rodeo?”
“If you think I’m going to answer that question, then Flash isn’t the biggest jackass in this room,” Pete shot back. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”
Oliver didn’t exactly glare at Pete, but it was obvious he wasn’t buying that. A quick glance around told him that none of them were and Pete was still outnumbered.
“I want it all,” he said. This was it, all his cards on the table. “I want her—because she’s got a wicked right hook and she knows how to ride and she’s a part of this rodeo family. And I want the rodeo. This is where I belong. It’s...” he sighed. “I rode this circuit with my dad when I was a kid and that was our time together. That was when I mattered to him and then he treated it like he treated his wife and children—disposable.” It hurt to admit that. “The truth is, he bet the All-Stars that night because it didn’t mean much to him. Because I didn’t mean much to him.”
An uneasy silence settled over the room. Then Milt spoke. “Now, son...”
Pete shook his head, cutting the old man off—and making his head spin. “It’s the truth. The All-Stars has always been there for me, even when my own father wasn’t. Rodeo is family and I couldn’t let it go. It’s my father’s legacy, the best part of him. Of me. And if you’d just open your damned eyes, you’d see it’s a pretty amazing part of Chloe, too. She’s the heart and soul of this rodeo. She’s...”
Things had changed. Pete had changed and that was in no small part thanks to Chloe. She’d shown him that they didn’t have to stay locked in the same roles, fighting the same battles. If they worked together, they could be something more. Something good.
“I need this rodeo and I need Chloe. Together, we can make it something more than my dad ever could have, something better than you ever dreamed, Milt. It’s...it’s home. Chloe makes it home.”
He hadn’t realized the truth until the words hung in the air around them. But once they were out, Pete felt them deep in his soul.
Chloe was home.
“We don’t have to like each other,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level. The longer he stood here trying to talk sense into these stubborn mules, the farther away Chloe got and the harder it’d be to apologize to her. “But can’t we at least agree that Chloe is more important to all of us than this?” he asked, waving one hand over the destruction of the dressing room. He had to use the other hand to hold on to the wall so he didn’t tip over.
“You really care for my girl?” Milt asked after a long moment.
“I thi
nk I love her.”
The room spun at that statement. He didn’t know if it was love or a concussion. He braced for impact, but no one rushed him and no one threw a punch. Instead, the three Lawrence men shared a look.
Then Oliver cleared his throat. “Does she feel the same?”
After the last few days with her, Pete wanted to say yes. But there was one problem with that. “After this? I can’t be too sure she’ll ever want to talk to me again. And she’ll probably bar me from the All-Stars for life. But if you all give her the respect she’s due, it’ll have been worth it.”
The weird thing was how much he meant it. This was him waving the white flag and leaving the field. If he’d lost Chloe, he’d lost, period. She might well wash her hands of him, but as long as her family started taking her seriously...
This was the end of the feud, another failed attempt at misplaced revenge. He was going to lose his legacy. He was out of options when it came to the All-Stars and the Lawrence family.
He’d lost. Funny how that wasn’t what he was worried about.
Where the hell was Chloe? And how was he going to get to her if he couldn’t even walk without collapsing in a heap?
The final blow to his pride was that he couldn’t go after Chloe without help. Or some really good painkillers.
Another look went around the room. “Well?” Pete finally demanded. “Are we going to go after her or what?”
“I have an idea,” Oliver finally said.
“I can’t believe either of you are considering this,” Flash added. At least, that’s what Pete thought he said.
“However—if she says no...” Milt jabbed a finger in Pete’s direction. “Then you’re gone. This is a one-time-only deal.”
Wait, what? What was she saying no to? How was whatever they were talking about different from her leaving them to figure things out on their own?
Yeah, Pete had missed something. And it might be the head trauma, but it sure as hell sounded like her family was maybe going to help him? He had a sinking feeling that he was going to need all the help he could get.
“Fine. What’s the deal?”
His Enemy's Daughter Page 14
